


Dead Hearts

by Raisedyoulikeaphoenix



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Kidnapping, M/M, Stockholm Syndrome, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 06:00:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2417579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raisedyoulikeaphoenix/pseuds/Raisedyoulikeaphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham is searching for his daughter, with his car broke down he stumbles upon a strange home with deadly results.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead Hearts

Will coughs, waving his hands at the smoke that was brewing from his engine, hopelessly lost and even worse he was in the middle of nowhere, he slams the hood. Feeling for his phone he holds it up desperate for a phone signal.

He moves towards the middle of road picking up a weak signal, he smiles as he dials the tow truck phone number, it rings twice before the familiar ding, reminds him his phone was dead.

Compelled to toss his only source across the road, he shoved the phone into his jacket pocket, climbing back into his pathetic station wagon, it wasn't long until Will becomes more aware that no one was going to rush to his aid. Instead he opens the door, he notices the woods walking away from his car was a foolish enough thing.

As for going to knock on the doors of random strangers, was in its own category. 

Will clutched onto the flashlight, smacking it as the lightbulb inside becomes dimmer in the receding sunlight, soon enough it would be dark and Will would be more lost. 

He worries about his half hearted promise to Alana that she would not have to worry, after all he had been gone a week searching for Abigail his daughter, who had vanished her phone signal had picked up throughout this area and with Will growing more worried he searched for her, he grew restless. 

Not watching where he was going, he soon stumbled over an unseen log. Allowing his face to plant right in the dirt, "fuck fuck!" He stands dusting off the mud that was caked onto his jeans, and to his luck his flashlight was cracked.

"Just great." He mumbled, as he walked more towards the middle of the woods he came upon a trail, that had tire tracks, _fresh tire tracks_ , he quickly followed the trail. 

The trail soon enough was gone, as he felt dumbfounded he looked up to see behind a row of trees a perfect sized home, with a sports car a Mercedes shine in the sunset, he walked hearing only the crunch of leaves beneath his feet, his heart felt as if it was going to leap from his chest, he stops looking behind himself he could no longer see the road or his car.

Worse, he couldn't tell himself where the forest begins and ends. _Traped._ Will thinks with uneasiness settling in his stomach, "born with a gift of fear." He reminded himself cautiously.

A bird flying overhead, made him jump. He looks towards the house, with a sickness he walks towards the home climbing the steps, much like a doomed man on death row.

"Dead man walking." He hollows in his southern drawl that was well hidden beneath his adopted yankee slang, "dead Graham." He adds helplessly. 

He breathes slowly, as he knocks on the front door. Peering inside, there is no light, with the sun down almost he can make out shapes of a kitchen, he realised it was the back door, he spies a table, oven, a island kitchen counter with a bottle of wine. 

"Hello?" Will calls out as he tapped against the windows, seeing no one was going to answer he did something a detective much like himself could see was the beginning of a horror movie, he turned the knob of the door which was unlocked.

"Hello?!" Will called out inside the empty home, he closes the door gently to welcome the warmth of the home, there was a fire lit inside the living room, Will moved slowly reaching to switch a lamp on to find the lamp was not working, he tried a wall switch. 

Nothing.

Warily he walks down the hall, remembering his flashlight he hits it against his palm to see with a dim light a series of art pieces on the walls, he raised his eyes at some.

There was one that made him stop in his tracks, a woman had a sleepily appearance on her face, while Will trailed the flashlight down to her navel, he saw her stomach was ripped open with the contents spilled out, with men holding the organs much like children with sweets, some were biting into them.

Backing up, he moves the light down the hall lighting more art, some was normal such as flowers, then another disturbing peace one that made Will gag, a man was tied at stake with his organs falling while the villagers danced, holding more sacrifices to stake. 

He lowers the light, adjusting his glasses, he comes into a study he assumes, the room held a desk, bookshelves, a computer and finally the most important a phone.

Pacing, he grabs the phone dialing before he hears the dial tone. He hears a creak, in the hardwood floor he turns to see nothing nore but darkness. "Hello?" He says, unsure if it was his imagination. 

Nothing.

"You have reached Smiths towing!" A cheetful female voice says, "unfortunately, we are closed if this is an emergency please hang up and call your local police or medical services. Thank you have a nice day!" The phone clicked over replaying the same cheerful message, making Will flinch with dread. 

He hangs up, setting the phone back into it's cradle. He sits against the desk, rubbing his face. 

Will was in the middle of fucking god damn nowhere, inside a home with creepy art with a lust for cannibalism. 

Another creak in the floor, he shines the light down the hall. The light was now a dim orange he moved slowly back out into the hallway, the kitchen was still in perfect harmony.

He moved his light all around, settling on the wine bottle, only the wine bottle was now missing. "Oh fuck." He felt his sweat run down the spine of his back, suddenly the room was too warm. He shuts the light off, someone was in the home with Will. 

He walks holding the light as a weapon, incase- what? Someone could simply hold a gun over him and he was done. "I'll leave, I'm sorry." Will says quitely. 

Silence. He moves down the hallway, rounding the kitchen. "I'm leaving." Turning the knob on a room he sees a set of stairs, he climbs down with each step making his heart race. 

The basement, he flicks his nearly dead light on, jumping back a stuffed bear was looking back at him, he poked it expecting it to attack him.

If the situation wasn't so tense, he might of laughed at himself. He moves down the basement, seeing more stuffed figures, until he sees what he believes is a mannequin standing in a odd position, he trained the almost dead light on it's face. 

His blood drops, the face is far too detailed. The mannequin's lips appear fleshy, the skin isn't plastic. As Will trained his fingers upon the skin, he feels a cold wax as peels it back, with a vile repulsion he throws the flesh on the floor. The mannequin is _real_ or was real at some point. Human.

He holds back a scream that was threatening to burst. He moved past the human mannequin, with more that were in odd positions, he drops his flashlight that exposed something he wish he never had seen.

Abigail, his daughter. Was cold. Stiff and now a mannequin. 

She smiles, with her dark hair brushed back, she wore a pink dress with a scarf that hid a scar beneath after Will rips the scarf off he screams seeing the deep wound that ended his daughter's young life.

"Why!! Why her why!?" Will shouts, he grabs the flashlight remembering the phone upstairs, he bolts holding the scarf, he is barely uttering a word as he runs into what he believed was a mannequin. He shoves it, only the body was warm and soft. 

He relishes, as he looks seeing a man with deep ash blonde hair, his skin a olive shade, he held two things a phone and a sly smile. His eyes, were dancing dangerously. A blood color, none that will seen before.

"Hello." He says gingerly, as if the two were friends. 

Will falls back holding the flashlight up, as if it could protect him. "You are a monster." 

The man says nothing. He only widens his smile. 

"Killed my daughter, you killed others. Why!?" He screamed holding the scarf. "You did this."

"So you are Mr. Graham, if I had known- perhaps her life could of been spared, I am sorry." The man says looking at the scarf he held. 

"Bullshit." 

The man sighs, "I do wish you do not alert the authorities, you look like a good family man one that could contain a secret." The man says, "I am Hannibal." He adds sincerely. 

"I do not fucking care if you are an angel, fuck you." Will moves to go past the man only in a mere second the man grabbed his arm shoving him against the brick wall, Will tries to break free the man's grip is firm and coils around him. 

"You aren't leaving, _Will_. You are staying." He commanded, as Will twists under his grip. "Let me go, fuck." Will feels the pressure go deeper. 

"I can not allow that." Hannibal tosses the phone down, removing what was in his hand, a syringe that was well prepared. "This is a sedative, I am sorry Will."

Will twists as the syringe is plunged into his left arm, as the world blots and darkens, he looks at Hannibal who is lowering Will to the floor, "Abigail." He says as he feels the scarf slip.

Hannibal is talking, to what sounds like French to his ears.

He could of sworn Abigail was laughing along side Will. At least her ghost was.

**/ / /**

_two months later:_

"How was school today, Abigail?" Will asks what he called his daughter now, the ghost Abigail who laughed mostly and talked to Will. 

"It was good Rosie, and I went shopping for prom dresses, she is hanging with Chris again." Abigail's ghost says rolling her eyes like a teenager would.

If she was alive. 

"Chris? Isn't he the one who is the football player?" Will wonders, as he turned the water off, he washed the dishes after dinner as always. 

"No, he is the basketball player...he is kinda creepy." Abigail picks at her hair twisting it. 

Will knows then Hannibal was home, he moved into the living room turning on the tv he sees a normal news broadcast, no one was abducted no one missing. He breathed a sigh of relief. It had been months since he had vanished himself, the police giving up almost too quickly to his liking, Abigail remained missing and loved by the media with each news story and dateline giving their own versions of events. 

Dead, runaway, or kidnapped. His favorite was she was in Mexico living off the coast, if they only knew hee corpse was a mannequin in a freezer for Hannibal's bizarre world. 

Will was angry at first, but after awhile he grew either insane or he loved Hannibal. 

He found out, being a serial killer's assistant was far more adventurous and a thrill than being back in Wolf Trap, as a detective. He watched the men and women's eyes become accepting as their deaths were at the end. 

To watch himself remotely remove the organs and blood, it was like watching a different Will takeover.

They dine on the organs, since Hannibal was a mastered chef he could make anything appealing.

"I love you." He hears a voice say, as he sees he is front of the tv curled up with Hannibal, hours had passed and Will is drunk with affection, he lets Hannibal cup his chin as he brings his lips to his face. 

"I love you, if I had known-."

"Stop. Please. It's okay." Will no longer felt like the discussion of the death of his daughter. 

"Will-."

Hannibal silently presses his lips against Will's deepening the kiss, as their mouths grew familiar with each other. "I love you." Will says gently. 

Hannibal nods, as Will curls against the very thing that should repulse him the most. Love was strange enough, twisting enough. 

Abigail's ghost sat in the corner, a sadden smile across her face. Knowing she couldn't enjoy them the present life, only in the afterlife the three would be reunited. 

Will closes his eyes, as Hannibal sings gently in french with him dulling to sleep.

 

_End_


End file.
